Saltbound and Bloodsworn (by Allison Franklin) novel Chapter 82

Saltbound and Bloodsworn

Chapter 82 Chapter Eighty-Two

Sylvan sat around the table of elders with Cole to his right and the leader of the dragon guards, the waste of air, Morris, to his left. The headache Isla had somehow alleviated a couple of hours earlier was threatening to come back with a vengeance as the arrogant dragon rider tapped his fingers against the wooden table in front of them. The only thing keeping the headache from turning into a full-blown migraine was that the idiot was having to use the fingers of his left hand as his right was tightly bound in a cast thanks to Sylvan’s warning the night before. He glatreed over to the man and smirked, earning him a scowl in return.

The murmur of the elders’ voices echoed in the large chamber where they sat. Known as the Heart Vault within the Deveraux Stone Conclave, it was once where the first ancestral dragons resided. An intricate network of caverns had been created by dragons’ fire throughout the mountains surrounding the dragon kingdom. While the ancient beings who once nested together in this room had long since burned out, the space they created remained just as imperative to the survival of its species and those who tended it. Sylvan glanced upward at the vast circular chamber whose ceiling, supported by towering natural columns, disappeared into darkness. Cole nudged his shoulder, and he turned his attention back to tite man speaking.

“How long do you intend to stay?” the man repeated.

Sylvan readjusted himself in his chair. “Hopefully for no more than two weeks. We suspect the council will summon us shortly, given what I’ve already

described to you.”

“And what can you provide us in return?”

Another elder, one Sylvan knew to be the longest-reigning member of the group facing him, cleared his throat. “May I remind the men here that Prince

Sylvan has always done right by our people. Furthermore, he’s brought us not one, but two fae to restore prosperity to our small kingdom.”

The first man rolled his eyes. “I understand your fascination with the prince, Breckenridge; however, my duty remains with the protection of this kingdom. The prince only remains such so long as his brother, the soon-to-be king of Eredhal, allows him to keep his title… and his head.”

“We are happy to provide sanctuary to the two fae women and the prince for so long as it serves the greater good of our community, but I must agree with

Jeffer,” announced another elder. “The safety of our people is the paramount priority. Even after you leave, it will be known we hid you, kept you safe. It is

not unreasonable to wonder if we may expect a certain level of protection of payment for our generosity.”

Cole opened his mouth to argue, but Sylvan kicked him under the table to stay silent. “I agree with your worries, gentlemen, but I must tell you that the safety of your people has been in danger since before I set foot past your mountains,” Sylvan began. “Before coming here, in fact, I learned of plans constructed by my father and those in power in Delfray to decimate your people and resources.” A low murmur began through the group of men. “A marriage agreement had been settled behind my back that, in exchange for the might of the Eredha) army, the Delfrayans would allow said army to march through to

Deveraux and end your people in the hopes of eliminating the fae in hiding.”

Several of the elders gasped while others pounded their fists in outrage.

“How could this happen?”

“Can we trust this knowledge?”

“We must fortify our defenses and…”

Sylvan stood up and spread his palms wide against the table, drawing everyone’s attention back to himself. “I have long since been an ally to your people. Me. Personally. I know the value of your kingdom, your people, and the beasts who have chosen to protect both,” he said, making eye contact with each elder before him. “My mate is one of the fae women I have brought with me. Her mother is the second. Now not only do I have my personal beliefs, but my very life, the lives of my future children, in the hands of the fae and those connected with their power. You.”

Eyebrows rose, and the elders exchanged looks of surprise.

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Chapter 82 Chapter Eighty-Two

few-days-time, my allies will arrive: those from my innermost circle along with the most trusted amongst my soldiers.” Sylvan met the eyes of the men doubting him. “My soldiers. It is I who have led the Eredhal army into victory over the last decade. I that has conquered kingdoms, thwarted my kingdom’s enemies, and run headfirst into battle with my men at my back, all while my brother stayed home and sat around a table such as this discussing the pros and cons of the battle 1 waged. Sylvan leaned back, seeing the anxiety leave the shoulders of most of the men. “When my mate and I must leave to face the council, my men, along with most of your, dragon riders,” he said with a side-eye toward Morris, who med. “Will be able to hold any attacks at bay.”

“This sounds like short-term solutions, Breckenridge proclaimed, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. Sylvan wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been convinced. In his years of negotiation and hard-won calls for support from the political side of the castle, he had learned there was always one man who refused to take his words at face value. “What plans do you have for the long-term support of Deveraux and her people?”

Sylvan smirked and pitched forward again. “I will take the throne from my brother. I will make Deveraux one of my strongest allies. I’ll support the renewal of the fae kind…” He glared down at the dragon rider, using every opportunity to drag him through the mud as he could. “Even by adding my own gene pool to the mix. With the resurgence of fae, your people will know prosperity they haven’t seen in generations. Your caves will be filled again with fertile dragon eggs and mature adults to oversee them. My long-term plan, Elder Breckenridge, is to help my mate change the world as we know it.”

“And in return? Surely you wish for more than a bed to peacefully lay your head in exchange for Euch gracious tidings,” Breckenridge mocked.

Sylvan chuckled dryly. The elder was a shrewd one. “Just the bed,” Sylvan said. “And the understanding that allies support each other in time of crisis.”

“Meaning?” Jefer pressed.

“To get the throne and secure the lives of the fae and your dragons, a war may come. If I call on your riders, I’ll expect them in full force.”

Sylvan shoved open the doors to the stone conclave, blinding himself temporarily as he was struck by the bright, early afternoon sun. Cole was hot on his heels as he descended the stairway and joined the large crowd of people filtering through the city.

“Were you serious in there?” Cole asked, catching up.

“I’m always serious.”

“You’re going to take the throne from Tristan?”

Sylvan guffawed and looked sideways at his friend. “Do you doubt my abilities?”

“I doubt your headspace. Have you considered what that will entail? You won’t just be playing soldier anymore; you’ll be ruler of a kingdom. Many kingdoms,” Cole amended.

Sylvan skidded to a halt and rounded on his friend. “Playing soldier?” Cole rolled his eyes. “I have not been playing at anything I’ve led thousands of men into battle. I’ve conquered kingdoms. I’ve made decisions that have won wars and…”

“Decisions that have killed men,” Cole argued.

Sylvan laughed without humor. “And you think that didn’t affect me? Didn’t prepare me?”

“Not at all. I know it affected you. I saw it firsthand. Your shoulders bear the weight of thousands of lives, Sylvan. Many of them far from as corrupt as these you will now go up against. I only worry what will happen to your back when you add the weight of the world.”

Sylvan placed his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “I have enough people worried about me and my safety. I need someone who will stand at my side, sword drawn, ready to charge before I give the command.”

Cole’s lip quirked as he fought a smile. “I’m really more adept with a bow.”

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Chapter 82 Chapter Eighty-Two

Sydva smacked Cole on the shoulder and sat back. “I’ll accept a bow, my friend. So long as the arrows are sharp and dipped in poison.”

Cole scoffed. “Are there any other kind?”

“Hey! Wolf!” Morris called, descending the stairs of the Stone Conclave.

“Great, this guy,” Cole muttered under his breath.

“Hold on, maybe he has something intelligent to say,” Sylvan said, his eyes tracking the man’s steady approach.

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